She Had Died Once
by Rynn Abhorsen
Summary: She has grown, seen more of the world than those centuries her senior. But she remains constantly stalked by Death, her one and only master. [ONESHOT, minor RinSess, PG13 for graphic violence]


**A/N:**I have not written any Inuyasha fanfiction is so long, not after Watercolors was taken down for being obscene. Anyway, I wrote this Rin-centric one-shot to appease my guilt at abandoning the fandom. I hope you enjoy.

* * *

She Died Once

By: Rynn Abhorsen

She had died once.

The fact still startled her some days, the days when darkness would gather like night birds in her mind, smothering, covering and coveting her thoughts.

She had died once, and she remembered every moment. The wolves, the feel of the rough earth, and that damnable tree root that had been her undoing, all stuck freshly in her mind as if they were limned in her soul and in her heart, not so unlike the markings tattooed upon her Lord. She remembered the falling and the taste of dirt in her mouth, the pounding of wolves' paws upon the earth. She could smell the blood and the decay, and under all of it the wet, animal odor of those creatures that pursued her.

And while she turned to face the creatures, she had died.

She remembered only small flashes of those last few moments when her soul had held on to life, like a drowning man clawing at the banks of a river only to feel the solidity of the earth come loose in his starving hands. She recalled the scream that died stillborn as the first of the wolves came savagely toward her, teeth bared and with saliva dripping from its jaws. She remembered as it lunged for her neck, ready to crush the thin column and free the lifeblood that flowed within. Another animal sprang, aiming for her heart and liver, rich with the nourishment that the creatures desired. They would eat her flesh and leave her skeleton for the fell creatures that ate of decay.

But even with all the power of the wolves' great jaws, it had taken her so long to die. She had lain sprawled upon the earth, her one good eye not swollen shut with human cruelty swimming with tears and blood and dirt. She could recall how the earth seemed to cradle her form as the wolves began to rip at her with their teeth. She could recall how cool the earth felt. It was rather like a mother, caressing a wounded face with a pitying whisper of, "poor, poor child."

The pain was insurmountable as the wolves had continued to snap at her. They had begun at her neck, as she knew they would, ripping flesh from bone. The pain was not the stinging, white-hot flash of a slap or a pinch. This pain was red, oozing dark and dull over her already far-gone form with hateful slowness, as if it relished these last few moments when she could feel herself being eaten alive.

And then, in a final release, she had died.

The land of death still swam along her now, coating her skin in a thick feeling of cold that she had never succeeded in ridding herself of. She had been pulled from that land of souls, pulled back into a body that she had been so glad to leave. But she remembered the man who had called her back…

Sesshomaru.

She remembered waking, as if her death and the ensuing acts of the wolves had been nothing more but a bad dream. And indeed, when she had found herself alive again, the marks of teeth and the missing flesh were put back into place. She had become whole again, filled to the brim with her newly enlightened soul. He had been kind to her, Sesshomaru, to give her this chance to live again.

But Death always lingered, following her as if she were the prey and it the hunter. It was a constant source of worry and fear. It stole away her joy sometimes, ripped it from her like the wolves had ripped her heart from her still breast. Death followed, angry at Sesshomaru for calling her back to life, and angry at her for going so willingly.

She liked to believe that Sesshomaru was stronger than Death.

It followed her when they walked through the meadows, when he battled Naraku for her sake, when Inuyasha and Kagome found them. It followed when she ate, when she bathed, when she danced, and when she slept.

It was always there when she slept.

When she was a young child, still dressed in her checkered kimono belted with a green sash, she had tried to forget that she was in fact, one of the walking dead. She told herself that she could smell the sunshine, feel the softness of the grass, see the moon climb into the sky; hear the sweet music of the birds. She told herself that it was enough.

But still Death called.

When she slept, Death brought up the images of the wolves, constantly reminding her that she had no place in the land of the living. Constantly reminding her that, in the end, she would have to return to the land from which she had been rescued. She had no place anywhere but with the Master known as Death who had taken her soul…

After all, she had died once.

She grew older, the constant paranoia that she would die pushing her to stay close to her Lord. He would not let harm come to her. Naraku had tried to take her once and her Lord had come for her. If Death tried to take her, he would come. He would come and save her and not allow her to return to that terrible land of the dead.

But it haunted her.

And even now, with the new kimono her Lord had brought her, and with the wildflowers twined in her hair, she felt the constant predator. Even with her hand within his clawed ones, even with his cheek pressed to her forehead as he embraced her, she could feel the darkness seeping in. She did not deserve his regard, or his generosity, or his care. She deserved nothing but the grave that was hers by right.

After all, she had died once.

* * *

**A/N:** Please, if you enjoyed it, leave a review. I don't require them, but they brighten my day.  



End file.
